Without his father to lead him through life, Jimmy may as well have been another face in the crowd. He was no noble born into a family of wealth, he came from common stock and whilst he stood to inherit the inn upon his father's passing it gave him no authority in the present. Back home he lived the life of a son, he was Gooseman's son Jimmy. Never was he Jimmy alone.
He felt a pang of guilt at that. His father had done everything for him, had given him a quality education, a place in life and had spent much of his time nurturing him. Who was he to complain about living in his father's shadow when there were people like Ella and Jakob with harsh and unloving fathers? Even Solomon had been an orphan, as much as he had loathed him, the man had worked tirelessly for everything he was given. What had Jimmy done to merit living in The Chipped Flagon? How did he deserve a father like Gooseman to provide and care for him?
He was jolted back into reality and felt even worse for it, they had arrived at the Justice's mansion.
The guards must have been expecting him, for they offered no resistance or attention beyond opening the doors. Slowly they progressed through a series of corridors and small chambers, each one containing a solemn guard to verify who they were. Ordinarily Jimmy would have marvelled at the ornate detail and lavish construction of such an opulent place but his sense of wonder at anything this city offered had been crushed.
Finally they halted, if only for the man ahead to take note of who they were before opening the final door. Jimmy was referred to as 'the prisoner' in the booming introductions, his heart seemed to sink lower at finally being told that.
At the end of a long wooden table stood Kelgrimm, to his left were The Hermit and Jakob clasped in manacles and with heads bowed. A number of guards surrounded them, though they seemed entirely superfluous. The sight baffled Jimmy, what had transpired that had bound The Hermit so? Was this an act on his part that would lead to a daring rescue? He couldn't think of any other way such a dangerous person could be restrained but by his own will.
'At last. Guards, place manacles on this one as well.'
The men shuffled forward with a rattle of chains but Gadtor and Thom held Jimmy's arms to his sides in their vice-like grips and refused to budge. Kelgrimm eventually dismissed their efforts with a shrug, though Jimmy could tell there was annoyance. Here was a man who needed to be in control of everything, whatever El-Vador had done to Thom and Gadtor, Kelgrimm seemed powerless to stop it.
'If you make noise we shall silence you permanently boy. It would appear that we need to wait for my last weapon to arrive home unscathed.'
Jimmy stood there with numb arms as the time passed agonisingly. He thought of escape, of somehow shaking free of his captors and grabbing a sword from the guard and... it was entirely hopeless.
If The Hermit couldn't divine a way out of this situation then no doubt it was foolishness for Jimmy to try and extricate himself.
The air finally seemed to chill around him, he knew that this spelt the imminent arrival of something he had foolishly considered a bandit at one point, his nemesis.
It felt strange, using that word. He saw himself as personable and found few that disagreed. There was always the odd conflict but they, like those he conflicted with, were few and far between. He could certainly find it within himself to dislike someone, perhaps even loathe them like he had with Solomon. Never could he think of someone as the enemy, it just seemed unwarranted. Until now.
The doors opened and El-Vador sauntered in. Kelgrimm somehow found the strength to berate such a thing.
'You're intolerably late, release these men from your spell so they can be put in proper custody.'
It shrugged at him, then feeling surged back into Jimmy's arms as his captors fell to the floor.
They picked themselves up, dazed and confused. Kelgrimm's glare seemed to grow worse in the face of how stupefied they appeared.
'You have both failed me miserably, the talents of El-Vador are all that prevented the escape of your quarry. I need men that I can trust in my employment, men who can get the job done. Your bumbling attempts at apprehension have secured you a one way pass to Sah'kel, consider yourselves enlisted.'
Thom moved as if to draw Skullcleaver but found El-Vador's sword pressed against him. Jimmy hadn't noticed when the creature had drawn it.
'Guards, place the manacle around their feet. El-Vador, would you be so kind as to kill either of them if they move?'
Jimmy backed away from the scene, the instinct to run pounding through his veins. Kelgrimm spotted him immediately.
'Boy, if you so much as move I will deal with you personally.' His arm flickered into life then, a pulsing orange glow forming around it. Jimmy should have been amazed but if El-Vador worked for this man he was powerful beyond reckoning. He decided not to move, rooted to the spot by fear.
He watched the guards as they secured a huge manacle around the ankles of both Gadtor and Thom, neither man made an effort to prevent them. They looked oddly similar then, both furious at this entrapment and powerless to prevent it.
'How the fuck do you expect us to fight with this thing binding us together?' Thom risked asking, eyeing Kelgrimm with a murderous look.
This brought a forceful chuckle from Kelgrimm. 'You both worked so poorly together, it would appear that you need to learn to solve that for yourselves.'
Gadtor seemed less angry than Thom, he had been thinking about the circumstance.
Kelgrimm read his face like a book. 'You think as soon as you're dispatched you can have any smith unshackle you at the point of a blade?'
Jimmy watched the hope in Gadtor's eyes die.
Kelgrimm wasn't laughing any more. 'I have accounted for this possibility. No, I think you will find that no smith in all the land will be able to release you from the ties that bind. El-Vador, if you please?'
The manacle shook briefly, nothing further happened. Jimmy thought back to the lock and knew that this was more than it seemed.
'I'm sure you will try regardless,' Kelgrimm continued, 'that's entirely your choice to make, as futile as it may be.' He nodded at the guards and they dragged Gadtor and Thom out wordlessly.
Jimmy half expected the men to shout threats and curse Kelgrimm but they did no such thing. He'd never forget those two pairs of eyes, the murder he had seen so plainly on Thom's before came back to him now. Jimmy had seen his fair share of that look over the last week of fighting for survival, it still managed to startle him coming from the Warden.
Kelgrimm turned his attention to the rest of them. 'It is Greyhawk for the remaining members of your fine party.' He surveyed them dispassionately, a look of confusion stealing across his face. 'Where is the girl?'
Ella. He knew Ella was missing. Jimmy had a bad feeling about this.
The Hermit shook his head, Jakob remained still. Neither of them knew where she was, of that Jimmy was certain.
Kelgrimm swept his gaze over to Jimmy and El-Vador, asking that same question again. 'Where is the girl?'
Jimmy watched El-Vador remain silent in the face of Kelgrimm's scrutiny, he knew that the creature had hidden her away somewhere. Now the choice was his: would he rather she remain in the custody of this monster or have her given over to the same authorities that had raped her? He looked up at El-Vador's face, there was no choice at all.
'She is with him, he is keeping her from you.'
Kelgrimm arched a bushy eyebrow at this, his eyes boring into Jimmy's. 'You speak the truth.'
Jimmy nodded furiously, hoping that Kelgrimm could exercise some control over the growing chill in the air.
He watched the older man confront El-Vador now, stepping to within an inch of the creature's face in the threatening display. 'I will have you reveal the girl to me, she is my jurisdiction and mine alone.'
El-Vador wasn't smiling. 'I have aided you as required, I have apprehended or exhumed all the varied participants in this pitiful uprising against your impotence and silently quelled a riot on your behalf. You would have me throw a
way the spoils of my rarest of servitude? The woman in question is of no concern to you, she played no role in the Black Quail and was merely a bystander that this unfortunate conflict swirled around.'
But Kelgrimm wasn't in the mood for bandying words any more. 'You will reveal the girl or I shall exhume you personally.'
The guards stepped forward as if on queue, weapons drawn and waiting for any sign of trouble.
El-Vador laughed then, an almost maniacal sound. 'Oh but even I am at a loss to lament the misfortune of your unlikely buffoonery. You were considered a learned man across the land, yet you choose now to throw aside reason as if it were some mantel to discard for personal gain? No doubt your powers are considerable, I have felt them. Your impotence will extend further than you suspect should you attempt to force my cooperation.'
Kelgrimm hesitated for the briefest moment. Faster than Jimmy could see, El-Vador was face to face with the man, who stared back at him in shock.
'You didn't expect me to wait until you had given the order to engage, did you?'
Kelgrimm coughed, a strangled noise sounding from his throat.
'That you didn't see this as an inevitability of your resistance is further proof of your unwarranted knowledge blinding your ability to govern effectively.'
With a deft flick, he sent the old man sliding down to the floor off the blade, the guards advanced cautiously.
El-Vador held up a hand. 'Your new Justice will be arriving from his extended travels before darkness greets you. I would suggest you carry out your duties as if he were in situate until then.'
The guards to a man looked at their commanding officer, who seemed torn between the same overwhelming fear that Jimmy felt and the attention to his duty in the face of such apparent treason.
He lowered his weapon, hand shaking. 'Very well. Guards, take the prisoners to the cages for transportation to Greyhawk. No one must enter this chamber until we clear the body.' He looked at El-Vador now, his voice trembling slightly. 'On pain of death?'
El-Vador nodded, looking carefully at each man, who seemed to realise exactly what sort of death the word implied.
'Your men will not betray you Captain. Have the former Justice escorted to his chambers. He has caught an unfortunately malady and will not be able to speak to anyone. Sadly he will perish overnight, conveniently a new Justice will be appointed the following morning. Do you understand?'
The Captain nodded quickly and the last sight Jimmy remembered was of the guards silently dragging Kelgrimm's body away.
57
Garth
Garth sat amidst a pile of weaponry, sweating profusely and struggling to lift his hammer. The trade wagon had barely enough room to fit all the weaponry that El-Vador had repaired for him. He had thought it odd that a creature that should have killed him would not only choose to spare his life but offer to aid him in such a fashion. He wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth and figured that now the bulk of his backlog of repairs had been cleared he would have the chance of a recovery and a reasonable work queue. He had been sadly mistaken.
It would appear that someone had taken notice of the enormous amount of repairs he had sent back, the huge cart had pulled up outside his house littered with nearly twice as much as any previous delivery.
Initially he had been angry, cursing the driver blindly until realising that the poor man wasn't responsible for the burden he carried and must receive a similar lashing at any smithy he was sent to.
He had invited the man in then, who had spoken candidly about how the war was turning into a massacre. It was refreshing for Garth to hear someone agree with him other than Gooseman.
The inn was his next port of call, even his fierce determination to get the job done couldn't satisfy the demand and there was only one man he knew who could change that.
After a few inquiries he found him meticulously arranging bottles in the cellar. Gooseman's sole hobby as long as he had known him was to construct a place like this within which he could stash his various vintages. He hoped against hope that his disruption wouldn't ruin his friend's mood.
'I was wondering when you'd finally arrive,' Gooseman said, still brushing down a dusty bottle with his back to the smith.
Garth wasn't too surprised that the man knew of his grievance already, it was Gooseman's job to know everything that happened.
'You know why I'm here then,' he said, matter-of-factly. 'You've also heard about the size of the delivery I've been given.'
Gooseman nodded, carefully setting the now-gleaming bottle back into the rack and pulling out another. Garth hated when the man was silent, it was impossible to guess at what he was thinking.
'The latest load is more than I can possibly manage, someone is deliberately trying to replace me.'
The innkeeper continued silently dusting his bottles as if nothing had happened, Garth plunged on regardless.
'Then they'll pack me off to Sah'kel for not doing my bit to aid the war. Only it won't be as a common grunt on the front-line, they'll be drafting me as a General.'
Still Gooseman showed no signs of reacting, Garth was growing tired of having this complaint coaxed out of him.
'What have you to say to that then?'
Another bottle was cleaned and placed in the rack, then Gooseman turned to the smith as if seeing him for the first time.
'I agree with them. As much as I care for you Garth, your purpose in life was never to sit in a small village mending horseshoes and fixing carts.'
Remembering his previous encounter, Garth tried his best to dampen down the anger that came surging to the surface. 'You... agree with them? What if I don't give a damn about my purpose? What if I want a life free from constant machinations and treachery? Have I not already paid my dues a hundred times over?'
Gooseman raised his hand as if to ward off the questioning, Garth knew he could say no more to the man and expect his aid.
'You were once one of the finest generals in all the land, you know exactly how the war is going out there in spite of being thousands of miles away. They want you to stop hiding away from your responsibilities and set you to task on preventing the slaughter instead of repairing the results of it.'
Garth sighed, he had a feeling it would go this way. 'I don't have a choice any more, do I?'
'You were given a choice many years ago. You chose to accept the terms of the agreement, that should your work in an external capacity simply not be enough for the military you would return to active duty. It was your choice not to take on any apprentices to aid you to that end, the repercussions of this are being felt now.'
The words deflated him, had he really expected this to go any other way? The world outside this simple hamlet beckoned him inexorably, the compliance was simply a matter of eventuality.
'I am not without sympathy for you Garth. The choices you have had to make in your life should have been forced on no man. Ultimately I know you are self-sacrificing enough to return to that place so someone else need not.'
Garth shrugged. 'I've had a good run here. It was a peaceful time, one that I hope to have again some day. Thank you for your words my friend, I think I knew there was nothing you could do before I asked.'
Gooseman smiled and offered him a glass. 'Even I am powerless to prevent certain aspects of the future, I wish you well and may we meet again in this life or the next.'
Garth grinned back at him as Gooseman uncorked a dusty old bottle. 'You know I don't believe any of that tripe. I'll try and get back here in one piece.'
The innkeeper poured out two measures and raised a toast. 'To safe ventures and safer returns.'
They drank in silence, knowing they'd never see each other again.
58
Hern
Hern had always prided himself on being able to adjust to the darkness surrounding him. The pit he found himself in offered no such luxury.
He had been hurled in with several chunks of rotting meat, landing heavily in a suffocating layer of filth.
He had sat there for some time, listening to the beast's cavernous breathing and trying to fight down the urge to retch. It was clearly being kept in squalor and he knew that if it didn't kill him in a fit of rage the conditions and lack of any water would finish him in short order. His jailers had to assume that the beast would rip him limb from limb out of rage or hunger, whichever spoke loudest to it first. No, there wasn't going to be anybody bringing him meals down here.
After discovering his eyes weren't adjusting to the lack of light, Hern surmised that the prison offered no means of escape. Not that he was eager to start searching and alert the beast to his movements, he knew that encounter was inevitable but he needed time to think before initiating it.
He had to admit, visions of brushing aside all opposition in Greyhawk and leaving a free man seemed far away and fanciful at this point. He'd taken a gamble in thinking himself the measure of Dyson and had lost spectacularly, the fact he was still alive at all was more fortuitous than anything else. Hern listened carefully as the beast stirred once more.
The creature seemed to have curled up as a cat would, resting its large head on an outstretched leg. It let out a deep sigh and closed its eyes, apparently willing itself to sleep. Hern was thankful that every action produced a noise that offered him guesswork, he was under no illusions that should this hunter want to take his life it could do so almost silently.
Hern had never encountered a creature like this before and had no way to tell if it was sleeping or merely resting. He had heard the stories of the giant lizards from the deserts but had other things to concern himself with at the time than compiling a personal bestiary.
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